


Breathe Me Down

by Chibihaku



Series: Kalasin Lavellan [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Desk Sex, Domesticity and sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I despise tagging my own work, Minor depictions of bondage, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibihaku/pseuds/Chibihaku
Summary: The falling dusk made the fire the main source of light in the room, and Bull watched it play with her skin, caressing her legs and making her shaped muscles stand out in ways that caught his attention. Her freckles, though, were blended to the point where they were little more than faint, dark smudges on her skin. 
She looked up at him, something grabbing her attention, and her teeth flashed into a gentle smile. “All done?” She asked, nodding towards where the papers were bound on the desk.
He said nothing, just reached out one scarred hand towards her.
((Or: Good moods, domesticity and desk sex. A winning combination!))





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not apologise for this at all.

His kadan was humming.

Bull smiled where he was working on some correspondence for Red and let himself listen for a moment to the tuneless, distracted sound that Kalasin was making as she fletched arrows next to the fire. He looked up, watched as her deft fingers applied gum to the arrow shaft and pressed the feathers into place, holding them just below the nock long enough for the gum to catch, then pulling away. She had several completed arrows drying next to her already, and more yet waiting to be finished, and Bull indulged himself for a moment in watching her smile, the concentration playing across her face before flickering into the satisfaction of a job well done.

He felt his lips twitch even as he looked back down at his work. His report for Red was nearly finished, a compilation of the feedback his boys had given him from their last mission. A trip to the ruins of Adamant, looking for anything of note, killing any demons they found. Positive on all accounts, no deaths and only the one minor injury, and Krem had spoken of other potential work in the area that needed to be passed through the Spymaster before Kalasin could look at it. Nothing urgent, Bull thought, looking over the report again and signing off his name, nothing that couldn’t wait until morning.

He placed the bundle of vellum to one side, smile still hovering about his lips as his kadan’s humming hit a slightly off-key note, lip sneaking between her teeth as the end of one feather curled slightly and she had to fight to press it down. Something warm curled in his gut, something that the pieces of Hissrad that still floated in him railed against, but he ignored the disapproval of the qun in favour of watching the way that Kalasin sat.

She looked comfortable, content even, by the fire with her shoulders loose and her head tilted. Her eyes were half closed as she set aside the now-fixed arrow, her legs (so long and graceful, even for her height) were languidly stretched towards the fire, crossed at the ankle and bare to his covetous gaze - he noticed, with a flash of pleasure, that she wasn’t wearing breeches or leggings where she sat on the plush, Orlesian-style rug. 

The falling dusk made the fire the main source of light in the room, and Bull watched it play with her skin, caressing her legs and making her shaped muscles stand out in ways that caught his attention. Her freckles, though, were blended to the point where they were little more than faint, dark smudges on her skin. 

She looked up at him, something grabbing her attention, and her teeth flashed into a gentle smile. “All done?” She asked, nodding towards where the papers were bound on the desk.

He said nothing, just reached out one scarred hand towards her.

Her smile flashed again as she stood, hand absently coming up to tuck the hair that fell over her face behind her ear, before she stretched her arms above her head to their full extension. The movement made her tunic ride up, giving him a glimpse of her smalls, even as the movement pushed out her breasts a little and tightened the muscles of her legs even further.

He tilted his head, let a satisfied smile spread across his face to let her know just how much he appreciated that particular view. 

She slipped towards him, footsteps silent on the plush rug, sway in her hips and heat in her eyes just as much a show for his benefit as the stretch had been. He felt the beginnings of interest stirring in his cock as the firelight danced over her shoulders, turning her hair to blazing red and gold as it caught the light.

She was  _ beautiful _ .

And she was  _ his. _

She stopped just before him, hand coming to rest in his own and tangle their fingers together, even as he ran his other hand up the back of her thigh, squeezing slightly in the place where her leg met her ass, before gently pulling her around towards the desk. She caught his meaning near immediately, pushing herself up so that she could sit in front of him. He rewarded her with a smile, let his hand continue to trace idle patterns over her hip under her tunic, watched the shivers that payed over her skin.

“All done for now,” He said, “Red’ll probably want amendments in the morning.”

She sighed softly as his hand stroked across her stomach, her hand slackening in his other. He tugged away, she looked at him through eyes half-lidded that danced with honey motes. He brushed his hand up her arm, her lips fell partly open, her body liquid and relaxed under his fingers, even as she reached out to bring her own hand to the back of his neck, fingers rubbing gently, soothing and warming at once.

He pushed the chair slightly back from the desk. “Come here.”

His tone was soft but still undeniably an order, and her lips curled into a low smile as she obeyed, slipping off the desk and into his lap. 

She leant in and kissed him, quick and barely there, pulling away before ducking in once more. His hand snuck around to the small of her back, fingers tightening as she pressed another kiss to his lips and then another, dancing and wicked and bent on mischief. 

He grunted slightly, his hand tightening it’s hold, and this time when she kissed him, it was one that lingered and hid a smile, sweet and gentle, playing with his lips and almost chaste. Her hands slid up his shoulders and neck, thumbs coming to rest just underneath his ears.

He returned the smile with one of his own against her mouth. “You’re in a good mood.”

She hummed against his lips in absent agreement, thumbs moving in small circles just in front of his ears, sending small thrills of pleasure through him. Not enough to deepen the kiss, still happy to let her play, but  _ there _ and all the more precious because of the gentleness behind them. 

She pulled away from his mouth, leaning forward again to kiss his nose, then his eyepatch, then the ruined scars above it. He felt his eyebrow climb, even as his fingers traced idle paths over her back, before slipping down her spine to cup her ass. 

“Things are working for once,” Kalasin said, just loudly enough for him to hear her over the crackle of the fire, “Do you know I managed to talk Leliana out of killing someone?”

“Impossible,” Bull said, from where his teeth had been distracted by a space just above Kalasin’s collarbone - space which looked a little too plain without a bruise marring it.

She sighed when his teeth grazed the spot, tilting her head so that he had better access. “Not as much as I thought.”

He bit her, not hard, just enough to let her  _ feel _ it, as her fingers moved to trail over the back of his head, caressing and gentle and soft. “Shit, you just bring out the best in everyone, Kadan.”

She laughed, surprised at the flattery, before the sound turned into an easy sigh as Bull trailed his lips up her neck to just underneath her ear. He let himself have a moment that’s a little more serious then, but kept his voice playful for her, “Anyone could do it, it was going to be you.”

He felt her smile through the way her languid limbs shifted about him. “And we managed to bring down Florianne without too much bloodshed,” She continued, shifting the topic away from herself with not the greatest subtlety, but Bull supposed that he’d be lacking in subtleties, too, if he had someone determined to distract him by nibbling on his ear. “And we saved those people on the plains.”

“And killed that  _ dragon _ ,” Bull said, as the swell of pride hit him again at the thought of the perils of the terrain - electricity and  _ water _ \- the feral roars of the creature, the way that his kadan had moved.

He squeezed Kalasin’s ass tightly, all but growling into her skin.

Even as she arched into him, she laughed, letting her fingers trail down to the back of his neck. “And we killed that dragon,” She agreed, slightly breathless, “Things just seem to be working for once, Vhenan. Isn’t that reason enough to be in a good mood?”

“Put me out of a job if you’ve got no stress to get rid of.”

There was a sudden tenseness in Kalasin that hadn’t been there before. She pulled away from him slightly, ignoring his grumbled warning, straightened so she could frown at him.

Her hands were still resting on the back of his neck, but her fingers were no longer tracing idle patterns, and the languid pleasure on her face had darkened into something almost like anger.

“Shit,” Said Bull, reaching up one of his hands to cup Kalasin’s face, “Didn’t mean it like that.”

It was difficult to piss Kal off, Bull knew, but it was the strangest things that could do it. There’d been a time in the Western Approach, when he’d been joking with Cassandra about stress relief and committed relationships and the Boss had gone deathly quiet and still before refusing to speak to him for the better part of the morning. Another time when he’d been laughing with Krem about balls and chains and she’d given him a queer look and left the tavern.

He pulled her closer to him, tried not to be hurt by the way she stiffened. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She relaxed, marginally, into his hands, but her back was still ramrod straight. 

It was difficult to remember, sometimes, that though his kadan was more sexually experienced than most, she was still nearly as new as he was to the idea of a relationship that meant something more than just a bit of fun. That she could be insecure, and insecure about  _ him _ , about what they had was both flattering and frustrating. Flattering, because he’d never had someone care like that about him before, frustrating because didn’t she  _ know _ that she was the most important person in his world?

Still, she hadn’t watch-worded him, even for her displeasure, so he leaned in and let his lips skim across hers in apology.

“It was a bad joke,” He said, as he pulled away, “Let me make it up to you, Kadan.”

She relaxed, finally, into his hands, the shadow of the smile he’d seen before returning to her face. Strained, and still a little hurt, but there nonetheless and ready for him to drag it back out of her once more. 

“You have me for as long as you have want of me, Vhenan,” She said, quietly, pressing her forehead against his, “Though you make spectacularly bad decisions about what to say sometimes.”

He laughed at that, low and deep, turning the sound into a possessive growl as his hands came to clench at her waist. He dragged his lips away from hers, to trail a line of bites down her neck, pleased when she leaned back with a soft, startled sound to give him more room.

He let his voice go deep and dark, “Wanna test that, Kadan?” He punctuated the question by dragging his teeth along the fine bones of her clavicle, even as her hands started to wander across his back. 

She shivered deliciously against him, even as he used his weight to push her backwards over the desk, thanking whatever god existed for the flexibility that let her arch her back like that, even as she tossed her head back and gave him a view of the slender, glorious column of her neck. Her startled gasp, as he pressed her down to him, so she could  _ feel _ him hardening through his pants, was music. The moan she gave when he took her invitation to devour her neck again, the best kind of accompaniment. 

He reached up to untangle her hands from about his neck, to press them to the desk above her head, holding them in place with one of his own. He pulled back, but only far enough to look at her, at the sight she made, breasts pushing against the fabric of her tunic with every breath, eyes dark with arousal, blush rising faintly under the vallaslin on her cheeks. 

It was the trust, though, always the trust that went straight to his dick and sent waves of need pooling in his stomach.

“You okay?”

Her tongue darted out to cross her lips, and she nodded slowly.

He cut his teeth on a grin, “Good. Word?”

“Katoh.” Breathy,  _ hungry. _

Satisfied, Bull let his grin sharpen further, taking on a razor’s edge. “How much do you like this shirt?”

“Not enough to stop you, ser.”

Bull chuckled, even as a shiver raced across his skin. Oh, she was  _ good _ at this, now. Knew what he liked, how to skirt the boundaries just enough to keep him hungry, hoping she’d disobey, hoping she  _ wanted _ what came when she disobeyed enough to do it. He squeezed her wrists tightly enough to feel the bones grinding against each other, heard her sharp intake of breath as she recognised the warning, saw her eyes glitter, then darken with need.

“You couldn’t stop me even if you wanted to, Little Cat.”

Though she was half in his lap, bent back over the desk, Kalasin still managed to bring her legs around his waist and  _ squeeze. _

“Is that how it’s gonna be?” He asked, sliding the hand not holding her in place up her leg and pinching her sharply on the sensitive flesh just above the jut of her hip. 

She jerked and shuddered against him (and  _ oh, _ didn’t that feel nice?) “Vhenan…”

His name was a breathy whimper.

He pulled away and looked down at her - a beautiful sight, flushed, wide eyed and held down by her wrists and still wearing far too many clothes.

“Don’t move your hands,” He let go of her wrists slowly, watching to see if she would obey, pleased and disappointed both when she did. Then he reached out with deft fingers to the front of her tunic, pausing for a moment to let her  _ understand _ what he had planned.

Then, with a grunt of effort and the sound of tearing fabric, he ripped her tunic down the centre line and pushed the ruined garment back from her torso. Gooseflesh raced over the planes of her stomach as it was exposed - the sight sent pleasure lazily through him, adding to the slow build in his cock, making it twitch against the constraints of his pants.

Still, here there was no harm in taking his time with the gift that had been given to him. He ran his hands over her stomach, watching the muscles jump under the press of his fingers, tracing the freckles that were present even here, answering her sigh with a low, rumbling growl. He brought one hand up to brush just below the line of her breastband, tucking the fingers of his other hand into the line of her smalls, stroking ever so slightly in a tease he could drag on forever.

Her arms shifted.

He growled absently, taking his hand from her smalls and reaching up to press her back down to the desk, before moving his hand to trace her throat, “Did I say you could move those?”

She swallowed very deliberately against his fingers, “No, ser.”

“Then don’t do it again.” He leant forward and bit at the corner of her mouth. She turned her head to chase his lips, but he’d already pulled back, hand tightening slightly around her throat, not enough to hurt her but enough that she knew he was _ there _ . “Do you understand me, Kadan?”

“Perfectly, ser.”

He smiled against a swell of affection, reached down to cup her breast through the fabric of the band holding it in place. “Now, Kadan,” He said, patient, always patient, “You only use words like that when you’re feeling petulant. That won’t do at all.”

She opened her mouth, probably to deny it, but he didn’t give her the chance. He leant down and bit her sharply on the breast his hand wasn’t busy with. Her voice cut off into a yelp that morphed into a moan as his biting turned to suckling. Her legs around him tightened, her back arching off the desk.

Her hands staying in place.

He smiled, scraping his teeth over the fabric of her breastband, squeezing her other, dragging her hips to him with the hand that was free. 

Above him, Kalasin said something.

“What was that?”

“Please,” She whined again, voice like shattered glass.

He pulled away from her breast, just far enough to ask, “Please, what, Kadan? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

“Please, I want to feel you on my skin.”

He had half a mind to ask for more, but the rawness of her voice pulled at places inside him, places once shattered and dark that she had slowly and carefully rebuilt through their time together, so instead he made a sound, animal, primal, in the back of his throat and pressed forward into her once more. He delighted at the way she shivered underneath him, and using one hand and his teeth, tugged down her breastband so that she was exposed. Then he set upon her again, catching her nipple between his teeth with pressure enough to make her gasp. He rolled her other nipple between his fingers, tweaking and pulling at the peaked nub until her hips started twitching against him in a way that felt really damn good.

He pulled back, ignoring her whine. “Let me go, Kadan,” He said, running his hand along her thigh, “I need some room.”

She did so, slowly, like she’d forgotten how to move her legs, and he pushed her farther up onto the desk, enough so that she could support her own weight and he could stand. He casually kicked the chair he’d been seated on back and out of the way before he took a moment to simply… admire the view.

Her ruined tunic was spread on either side of her body, breasts rising and falling above the band still wrapped about her, nipples pink and peaked, stomach one gentle plane of muscle that continued down to the hollow of her hip. And her smalls - damp and dark and still covering far too much of her.

“I’m gonna roll you over, Kadan,” Bull said as he reached down to languidly stroke himself through his pants. Her eyes tracked what he was doing and she let out a sharp inhale, hands clenching where they were still above her head. “Lower your hands.”

She did so, slowly, bringing them to her sides while visibly restraining herself from reaching for him. He smirked, gently reaching under the small of her back and rolling her onto her stomach. He reached to her shoulders, next, to the ruined tunic still covering her, and gently tugged it downwards until it tangled impossibly about her arms. Not completely off, no, just far enough that he could lean forward and drag his teeth along the exposed line of the back of her neck. 

He drew her hands together behind her, used the ruined tunic to tie them in place in a knot that wouldn’t hurt her if it tightened, then stepped back to admire once more. 

Face turned to the side, she was watching him with one desire-darkened eye, legs spread invitingly, though she had to go up onto the balls of her feet to find purchase on the ground. Which was fine with Bull, he loved the things it did to her ass to see her like that.

Shame the smalls were still in the way.

“Comfortable, Kadan?”  _ Do I need to adjust anything? _

“Yes, ser.”  _ I’m fine. _

He smirked, “Good. You make a fucking sight like this, my Little Cat. Remind me I need you like this more often.”

He stepped forward and positioned himself behind her, dragging her hips to his so that she could  _ feel _ his erection through his pants and her smalls. He pressed into her, rolled his hips, grunting his pleasure in response to the moan the action pulled from her throat. 

Her eyes slid closed and she pressed back into him, seeking as much contact as she could.

He chuckled languidly and ground himself against her, grunting again at the feel of it, at the pleasure that flashed through him with each buck, revelling in the desire that was building hot and swift in his stomach.

Oh, she’d be furious at him later, for teasing her like this, but  _ he _ was the one in charge  _ here _ and he’d take all the time he damn well pleased. 

He slipped his hand under her, explored her breasts again as he used his other hand to keep her hips pressed against his, taking lazy pleasure from the sounds he drew from her. Impatient, involuntary sighs, wanton whimpers, tiny groans of frustration as she tried to press back into him, even as he pressed himself fully against her so she could feel the whole length of him through their clothes. 

It was only when her whimpers grew more desperate than frustrated that he relented, that he reluctantly pulled away from her. She whined at the loss of contact, hips rising off the desk to chase his. He put his hand on the small of her back to hold her down. 

“Patience, Little Cat.”

She moaned something that might have been his name.

He chuckled low, ignoring the pull of his own dick, intending to let this drag on for as long as he could. 

He slipped his fingers under the line of her smalls, tugging them down just far enough so that he could slip his hand inside.

The wet heat he found was enough to make him growl absently as he traced his fingers along the shell of Kalasin’s sex, his desire only pooling further as she tried to press back into his fingers.

“Does that feel good, Kadan?”

“Yes, ser.” Her voice was reedy and thin with need.

He smirked, letting his fingers trace over her again, dipping in only slightly and just to pull away. “Tell me what you want.”

Her answer was prompt and desperate, “Please, ser, I want to come. I want your fingers inside me, your mouth on me. Anything to make me come.”

He smiled, low and dark, slipping a finger between her folds, tracing around her clit. She gave a strangled shout, hips rising off the desk to meet his hand, feet scrambling for purchase on the floor. Her eyes slid shut behind the sweat-slicked veil of her hair, shoulders bunching and tensing against the bonds of the ruined tunic. 

Bull used his free hand to cup himself behind her, lazy in the pleasure he gave, a slow drag that didn’t change, even as her movements became more frantic beneath his fingers. He watched, listened, waited for her telltale hitch of breath, the tightening of her muscles, the change in tone of her cries that meant she was close to coming - 

And when he saw them, he pulled away. 

She cried out, desperate and hoarse, and he reached for her, running the hand he’d been stroking himself with over the back of her neck, making gentle, soothing sounds. 

“Not yet, Kadan,” He said, not unkindly, “You’re being so good, but you don’t get to come until I’m inside you.”

He leant forward, kissing between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against him.

“Relax for me,” He said as he pulled away, hands going to the fastening of his belt, slipping it loose and pushing his pants off his hips, “Breathe.”

“ _ Please,  _ ser _. _ ” Her voice was wanton, shameless in its’ need, and he nearly abandoned the game then to  _ take _ her, hard and fast and swift. His cock was hard enough he almost  _ hurt _ , but he still took his time pulling her smalls down to her knees, spreading her legs further, taking in the view of her open before him like a man before a feast.

He could work her up again, push her until she was riding that edge with lips and tongues and teeth, but he was too hard for such a cruelty, too ready to take her, to find his own release inside her, even as he finally,  _ finally _ , let her find hers. 

He gripped his cock, tracing it’s head around her opening, relishing in the way she shuddered and jerked, hips seeking him. He pulled away and pressed forward again, she let out a pained, desperate sound, hands straining at her binds, back arching, trying and failing to get closer.

“ _ Please _ .”

The broken sob of a word proved Bull’s breaking point, and he relented - sinking into her warm, slick heat with a groan that echoed in her cry of relief. He bent over her, near pressing her into the desk with his bulk, braced on his forearms either side of her head. 

And he began to move.

He kept it sweet, kept it slow, a roll of hips on hisp that had her rising for the table in an attempt to meet him. He drew his lips down the back of her neck, biting and grunting and kissing with every drawn-out thrust, revelling in the way that she called his name in increasingly desperate cries.

She was tight and hot around him, and he took his pleasure from her with no remorse, feeling her tense under him, the uncontrollable jerk of her hips drawing him deeper into her, her shouts and moans buffering his control until it shattered around him and he began to move in earnest.

Her cries built in pitch, her moans becoming hitched and breathy sobs, her head thrashing against the table as he bucked against her, faster and faster, grunts answering her voice, pleasure bolting through him again and again and again until he could barely hold it any more.

“Come for me, Kadan,” He managed one last order, and she cried out, desperate and triumphant as he pressed as deep into her as he could. She shattered around him, clenching tight, every muscle going tense, and the feel of it pushed his own pleasure forward past his patience until he was taking with no thought of her, sparks building behind his eyes, biting her shoulder as he came inside her with a final grunt of release.

They stayed like that for a long minute, Bull resting his forehead between her shoulderblades, before slowly, reluctantly, he straightened, pulling his softening cock out of her.

He ran his hand affectionately over her back, before he reached down to untie her.

She made a sound of protest at the movement, he kissed her shoulder. “I’ve got you, Kadan, relax.”

Once her arms were free, he discarded her ruined top and properly removed her breastband and underwear. He scooped her up into his arms after that, smiling at the way she turned to burrow into him with a sleepy sigh of contentment.

He walked them over to the fireplace and sat next to it, arranging Kalasin so that she was sitting more comfortably in his lap, head against his chest, legs tangled with his own. She sighed and looked up at him, eyes glazed and blissful, smile curling at her lips. He took one of her hands in his and started gently massaging the slight marks his restraints had left.

“You okay?”

She sighed and mumbled a sleepy affirmative into his chest that made him huff out a laugh that was entirely too affectionate.

“You’re safe,” Bull said quietly, “The Inquisition is running without you. You’re warm, and everything’s been going better recently.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “Sleep, Kadan.” 

Eventually, she did, dropping into a doze, then, after a while, a full rest.

It was only after Bull was sure she’d settled that he leant back against the stone wall next to the fireplace and followed his own advice.

His last sight before sleep took him was the view of arrow shafts scattered before the fire.


End file.
